Of Bonds and Choices
by mandy.luzader
Summary: When the cost of victory is too steep for Hermione to accept, things seem hopeless in the aftermath of the battle of Hogwarts. Until she realizes that she's not entirely human anymore. Until an accident in the forbidden forest gives her the chance to make changes. Until she decides to take fate into her own hands.
1. Vacant

So, while I've been an avid reader of HP fics I've never quite worked up the courage to post one of my own. (despite the 20+ WIPs saved on my laptop) Any and all constructive criticism on my writing is more than welcome, but no flames please guys. If time travel, Remione (eventually), werewolves, and a serious disruption of canon events isn't your cup of tea, I would advise against reading further. If anyone is interested in being a BETA for me, please feel free to message me!

As with all fanfictions, I own nothing other than any original characters I may introduce and any ideas my plot bunnies screeched about until I wrote them down. J.K.R. owns this world, I'm just playing in it.

* * *

 _Remus Lupin was dead._

The thought seemed to echo repeatedly through her mind as she sat on a stone that once had been part of the Hogwarts castle. A slight tremble shook her too thin frame as she leaned forward, elbows on her knees and face held in her hands. A thin streak on each side ran through the grime covering her cheeks as silent tears sporadically ran down the sharp angles that made up her face. Like so many others that found themselves surviving the final battle between the dark lord and Harry Potter, Hermione Granger was in shock.

 _Remus was a werewolf, magic couldn't kill him. He couldn't be dead._

Some far away thought struck her that she should move from her perch, away from the horrid sight of the two that had been lain next to each other as the bodies of the fallen had been gathered. She just didn't have the energy to tear her eyes away from the figure that had sandy brown hair laying on the ground a few yards away. Later perhaps she would question why this particular death was hitting her so hard when so many others she held dear to her heart had also fallen but at that moment her brain couldn't handle much of anything. After all, Remus Lupin was dead.

She was an intelligent witch. She understood death, she had certainly been exposed to enough of it. However, the task seemed too much for even her superior mind. In vain, she continued to watch the still chest for any signs of breath. The hand that laid closest to her for any twitch. Logically, she understood Remus was gone. In her heart though Hermione couldn't help but pray for some sign of life from the handsome wolf. Denial was never healthy, but in this case, she couldn't help but reject the thought of Remus being gone.

 _Remus couldn't be dead, could he?_

Distantly she was aware of the others around her, Ron and the other Weasley's were gathered around Fred's corpse. George was laying there as well after being heavily sedated for his own safety. Even under the powerful effects of the potion George wouldn't be removed from his brother's side. Andromeda Tonks was sitting not far from her own seat holding the only remaining Lupin in her arms, the poor witch looked nearly catatonic. Only her arms remained solid around the small boy. Harry was working with a few others who had found the strength to carry the fallen from wherever they could be found to the grounds, so they could receive proper respects. Currently the boy who lived was carrying the body of Lavender Brown with the assistance of Kingsley to a cleared spot near the Lupins.

 _Was that a breath? Remus, please. Ah, no. Simply the wind rustling the tattered jacket he still wore. Remus was dead._

The sight of Lavender stirred a vague memory in Hermione. Still feeling detached from the moment, Hermione recalled blasting the half wolf form of Fenrir off of the girl during the fight. Apparently, it hadn't been enough to save her. Though Hermione had managed to earn herself a number of wounds from the wolf in return for her efforts.

Oh, that's right. She was wounded, wasn't she? Getting up to locate Madam Pomfrey or another healer didn't seem worth it when so many others needed care more urgently. She couldn't feel the pain from any of her injuries, thought the bite above her hip was oozing warm blood over her lower abdomen. The hot liquid was a sharp contrast to the cold that permeated her very bones.

 _How could he be gone? Remus was larger than life. Remus Lupin couldn't just die like this._

Harry had laid Lavender down, the girl's hair had been arranged to cover the gruesome wounds on the side of her neck. Hermione appreciated that. Seeing the torn hole in her once rival's neck had reminded her of the wolf. Which only lead her mind back to Remus. Had Fenrir fallen in the battle as well? Perhaps it would bring some peace to Bill and Remus, two who had fallen victim to the brutal man.

 _Fenrir had hurt Remus. Maybe Fenrir had been the one to kill him. Remus Lupin was dead. Remus was dead. Remus was gone. REMUS WA-_

"…'Mione?" a tired voice pierced the fog covering her mind. Slowly, almost feeling as if her neck couldn't support her head, she raised her head to see Harry standing before her with a look of concern on his face. The shrieking voice repeating the horrible truth finally stopped as her eyes met the bloodshot emerald of Harry's.

"Sorry Harry. I was a bit lost in thought, what was that?" she managed to reply after a moment, a worn smile attempting to cross her lips though it came across as more of a grimace.

"I asked if you were alright." Her best friend repeated, the look of concern growing ever more severe as he took in her appearance. Her normally wild hair was matted with blood and covered in leaves along with other debris. The tremor that had started when she sat down had worsened and the skin that previously held a tan from their months on the run now appeared sickly pale. The dark circles under her eyes looked even worse with the parlor of her skin and her eyes were a tad sunken in. As he examined her appearance another tear ran its way down her cheek, seemingly without her notice. She hadn't even cleared herself of the blood covering her, which he was beginning to question if it was hers or another's.

"No worse than anyone else, I'll go to the medi-witch tent once some others are tended to. No need to worry."

He nodded slowly, doubt clear in his expression. "Alright. Make sure that you do, or I'll bring Madam Pomfrey over here myself."

Silence fell between the two for a moment as Harry sat himself down next to her on the remains of the wall. "I can't believe it's over." Fell from his lips.

"But at what cost?" was all that she could manage in response as she looked out over the corpses of their friends. Already more than fifty seemed to be laying on the grounds, with more being brought by Kingsley and the other aurors.

Others were slowly talking of funerals and memorials, though the task seemed impossible in the sight of all those fallen during the battle. At her words Harry too paused to look out over the castle grounds, shoulders gradually slumping as he took in the sight of all the bodies. "A steep one 'Mione. I don't know how, but we will all recover eventually. We owe it to them. All of them."

A small hand reached out to squeeze his own, accompanied by a nod and a small smile. "Of course Harry."

He gave her a small smile in return before rising once more to go see Andromeda with his god-son. Once more alone with her thoughts, Hermione wondered how anyone could recover from all this loss. Remus was dead. Tonks was dead. Fred was dead. Lavender, Colin, Snape, Sirius, Crabbe, so many others. A little distance from the Lupin duo laid a small girl, a second year or perhaps a third at the oldest. Her tiny form had nearly been ripped in half, the marks showing that the infamous spell of Antonin Dolohov that marked Hermione's own body had killed the child.

Somehow the sight of the young girl was enough to spur Hermione into moving for the first time in hours. Shakily she rose to her feet and started to stumble towards the child. She absently noted the blue and bronze tie marking the girl as a Ravenclaw. That same tie slowly became the focal point of her vision as darkness started to overtake her sight and dizziness began to make her head swim. 'I was nearly a Ravenclaw' was the last thought to cross her mind before unconsciousness took her.

* * *

Hermione's dreams were chaotic and fevered. It was more like a swiftly rushing collage of images, memories, and thoughts than any other dream she had experienced previously. She clung to the image of herself and Remus together on a couch in the Black Library, reading a book and debating the idea of a werewolf becoming an animagus. The following image contained a memory of herself, Ron, and Harry in their tent while on the run. Fenrir attacking Lavender, the poor girl's blood and flesh everywhere. Bellatrix cackling in manic madness while carving into Hermione's arm. The sorting hat arguing with her over which house she belonged in. Her mother crying when McGonagall came to explain that she was a witch. Remus in his wolf form answering her howl. Bill in the hospital after being attacked by Fenrir. Fenrir attacking her, Lavender's blood still smeared all over his face. Running through the forest, but she wasn't in her own body. Amber eyes surrounded by a chocolate fur covered snout filled her vision.

With a sharp gasp, she woke up. The familiar blue-green curtains surrounding the bed she was laying on told Hermione that she was in the hospital wing inside the castle. One of the few parts of the building that hadn't suffered much damage during the battle luckily. She shifted her arms back to help support her body while she attempted to sit up before a sharp pain tore through her abdomen. The wound above her hip radiated a sharp tugging pain before she could feel the dampness spreading from her hip across her lower stomach.

"What are you doing!" Madam Pomfrey demanded in a shrill voice as she pulled the curtain providing Hermione privacy back from the bed. "If you've managed to reopen the wound, I swear to Circe miss Granger I will keep you tied to the bed young lady!"

"I haven't-" was all she managed to get out before Madam Pomfrey ignored her and continued to speak.

"Three broken ribs, multiple lacerations, a chunk of flesh missing from a bite wound, blood loss, and going into shock! Yet somehow you didn't manage to find your way to the medics! No, no, no, you sat there until you managed to pass out and had to be carried in. Of all the irresponsible…" Poppy continued to rant as she rapidly ran diagnostic spells over Hermione and began mixing together various cures. Harry, Bill, and Arthur walked in at that moment, saving Hermione from further berating from the medi-witch.

"I guess you won't be the only wolfy one now after all Bill." She attempted to joke as they gathered around the bedside that Madam Pomfrey wasn't puttering about on.

A slight grimace crossed Bill's face, the expression seeming even more severe with the scars that ravaged his handsome image. "Fenrir was the one that bit you, wasn't he?"

Hermione simply nodded in response as Harry scowled before providing them with a run down of what had occurred between herself, Lavender, and Fenrir when she had been searching for Harry. Luckily for all involved in the final battle, it hadn't been the night of a full moon or there would be plenty of new wolves. According to Arthur, there had been several people wounded by Fenrir's wolves during the battle though Fenrir himself seemed to have been strangely absent. Only a handful of individuals appeared to have encountered him, namely Lavender, herself, and Bill. Perhaps a few of the fallen had also encountered him, but they no longer lived to tell their tale.

The talk may have gone further if Madam Pomfrey hadn't decided at that moment that it was time for more skele-grow and dittany. The latter of which left Hermione mumbling about mummies and bandages which, of course, nobody besides Harry understood. The boy who lived managed to hide his chuckle behind a cough and suggested everyone could come back later. Madam Pomfrey had an entire tray of potions and salves for Hermione to take so it seemed like a good idea.

As the trio exited the hospital wing, Bill Weasley turned to get one last look at Hermione. Something seemed off about the girl's scent, though perhaps he just wasn't accustomed to the scent of another who had been exposed to lycanthropy. There wasn't much to be done at the moment, so he simply made a mental note to keep an eye on her once she was recovered, after all knowing Hermione she would have plenty of questions about how the changes would affect her.

After all, Remus hadn't been entirely correct in the assumption that the only effects of lycanthrope exposure involved a bit better eye sight and a craving for rare steak. Though Remus couldn't be blamed, he was a full wolf. He only knew that being scratched by Fenrir wasn't enough to be fully infected. But these thoughts were for another time Bill supposed, scratching the back of his head as he rejoined the rest of the Weasley clan. Fred was gone, never to return and George deserved his full attention. Charlie had always been the closest to him, but the twins were still his younger brothers. The loss of Fred was agonizing. Bill couldn't even begin to comprehend how painful it was for George to lose his other half.


	2. Lamentation

'This weather makes it all worse somehow'

As the sun shone bright in the sky and a gentle breeze blew over the grounds, all Hermione could think about was how the weather somehow should have been better in sync with the events of the day. It was 4 days after what was coming to be known as the Battle of Hogwarts and the first day that she had been allowed to leave the hospital wing on her own two feet. If it wasn't for the seemingly endless stream of funerals to attend, it would have been a relief. However, the funerals were happening, and the weather didn't even have the decency to reflect the situation.

She stood in the back of the crowd, feeling cold despite the sun beating down on her and the black on black ensemble Ginny had brought for her to wear. Some distant part of her found a morbid irony in the fact that she was attending Lavender Brown's funeral in a dress she had bought with the intention of wearing for a date with Ron. Not that Ginny had known that when she brought the dress from Hermione's trunk, it was just one of the few pieces of clothing Hermione owned that could be appropriate. Now, with a black shawl completely covering the rather flattering neckline and lace covered back of the dress, Hermione looked as somber as anyone else in the crowd standing in a half circle around the recently buried coffin.

The proceedings had passed in a fog, just like the two funerals she had attended earlier in the day. The first had been for little Colin Creevey and the only clear thing she remembered was that his camera had been buried with him. After Colin had been the little Ravenclaw girl that had been lain near Remus in the aftermath. Her name had been Joanna Elise Tomblin and her 13th birthday had been today. Hermione clearly remembered those two facts as they were continuously circling around her mind, though she couldn't have repeated a single word of the service or listed any names of who else had attended.

The worst was yet to come though, Fred's funeral was scheduled for the end of the day and Rem… No, the Lupin's were scheduled for tomorrow morning. Thinking his name only made things worse she had realized while laying in the hospital wing. Part of that could have been just being unoccupied and having too much time to dwell on things, but in her more 'clear' moments Hermione realized that while she felt pain and grief for everyone something about _his_ death left her feeling broken.

Also in her clearer moments, she loathed herself for getting lost in this fog of numbness and emptiness. There were things to do and people to help! Distantly she wondered if this was what muggles called depression, but those thoughts (and most others) faded quickly as the feelings returned and left her hollowed.

Her introspection was cut off abruptly by a chilly hand lightly gripping the back of her elbow and steering her towards a stone bench nearby. For being in a graveyard, it was a rather scenic spot. A large elm tree sat near the top of the hill with the plain stone bench nestled at the base of the tree, well within the shade offered by the foliage. Being near the top of the hill allowed a wonderful view of the area as well. The small but growing graveyard only took up the immediate area, but beyond that was covered in rolling hills with the Forbidden Forest just barely in view to the West and Hogsmeade just a stones throw to the East.

"How're you holding up?" a soft voice broke the silence after they had sat down.

So, it was Andromeda who had moved her away from the departing crowd then. The older witch had been attending every single funeral that she could, to honor those who fought alongside her daughter she had explained when they had spoken the day before. With a slight grimace, Hermione blandly responded "As well as anyone else I suppose. I mean, can anyone really say they're alright yet?"

"No, I suppose not. Are your wounds healing alright though? I see Poppy finally allowed you some freedom." Andromeda smiled slightly, probably recalling the showdown between the Healer and the not-quite-an-adult witch from the day before. She had stopped in the hospital wing to visit Hermione just in time to see quite a show before sitting down for tea and a chat once Madam Pomfrey had gone back to her office.

"Yes, I have to return for a check up in a few days but otherwise I'm fine now." It still amazed Hermione how much faster magical treatments could be compared to muggle hospitals. If she had those wounds and gone to an emergency room, it would have been weeks before she was on her feet again.

"Ah wonderful!" Andromeda paused, almost seeming hesitant. "If you're feeling up to it, would you be able to assist Teddy and myself?" she finished after a slightly awkward lapse in conversation.

"Err... Of course, what can I do?" Hermione replied, slightly thrown off by the unexpected request.

"There's a potion that Remus had been giving Teddy, you see he doesn't transform or anything of the sort. He's not a werewolf. But he does get awfully restless and uncomfortable the night of the moon, which is coming up you know? Normally, it would have been made already but with being in hiding and everything else… Well ingredients were hard to come by. I went to the apothecary in Hogsmeade and was able to get everything we needed except the aconite." Andromeda explained the request.

"Ah, and the apothecary in Diagon Alley hasn't been repaired or reopened yet has it?" Hermione muttered, mostly to herself as she ignored the sharp pain that pierced her when _his_ name was said aloud for the first time since the day of the battle.

"No, I'm afraid not. I'd go get it myself, but I can't leave Teddy alone long enough to and he certainly can't come with me. The fresher the better, but even dried and preserved aconite will be better than nothing." She answered, earnestly looking in Hermione's eyes. "Please, I'm sorry to ask but I'm worried how he'll handle the moon wi… without Nymphadora. Let alone if he's without the potion as well."

It was the emotional breaking of the normally so composed woman's voice when she said her daughter's name that pulled a simple yes from Hermione. How could she refuse? Teddy was _his_ son, Andromeda was something of a friend, and it was an easy enough task. Already she was mentally judging the amount of damage down in the dungeons to determine if Snape or Slughorn's stores could still be viable.

"When do you need it by? I might be able to find some in the storerooms near the potions classrooms." She stood up, prepared to go hunt down the plant.

"Tomorrow would be ideal, but as long as I start the potion by the day after tomorrow it should be ready in time. Thank you, darling girl, I was so worried about Teddy and how Friday night would go." Andromeda smiled before standing and bidding Hermione a farewell.

While Hermione was planning on heading to the Burrow to help the Weasleys prepare for this afternoon, Andromeda on the other hand was heading to the funeral of an auror who had fallen in battle. Kingsley had been her partner right out of the training program and even though a number of years had passed since then, the fallen woman's funeral was already shaping up to be one of the larger ones. McGonagall had even mentioned that the two had been sweethearts during their Hogwarts days, after that bit of information had slipped most of the Order who wasn't helping at the Burrow had planned to attend to help support him.

Once Andromeda was out of sight, Hermione made a quick mental note to speak to Minerva later that evening when they both had returned to Hogwarts for the night regarding the aconite that Teddy needed. The green houses ran by Professor Sprout for Herbology class rarely grew it due to the difficulty level, however her personal greenhouse may have the elusive wolfsbane plant if the potion storerooms were too badly damaged. With a slight nod to herself and feeling more present than she had since the battle ended, she focused on her usual apparition spot in the Burrow gardens before disappearing with a nearly silent popping sound.

When she arrived the Weasley household was far from the chaos Hermione had unconsciously expected. Despite the number of people in the house it was still oddly silent. Through the window overlooking the garden that she had just appeared in, she could see Fleur and Bill sitting at the kitchen table with Molly, Percy, and the girl Percy was with. Fleur was looking pregnant as ever, though the glow that seemed embedded in her skin last time Hermione had seen her was absent in the gloom.

Her heart clenched painfully as she stepped around a row of plants she couldn't quite identify as she was reminded of the pain her surrogate family was experiencing. Molly, who was usually so full of life and motherly care, had looked hollow sitting at the table. Bill had looked physically bent; his normally broad shoulders were slouched down as if the weight of the world was on them. If the older Weasley's looked that rough, she was almost afraid to see George.

Rounding the corner of the house and striding towards the front door, she was nearly run over by Lee Jordan. As he burst out of the house, actually leaping over the steps in his haste, a shouted hello and hasty apology escaped him though he was gone around the back of the house before Hermione could even hope to process what had just occurred let alone begin to form a response. That was a bit more along the lines of the Burrow chaos she had expected. A slight chuckle that was more air than sound left her lips as she shook her head and walked the last few steps into the home. Just inside the living room sat Ron, Harry, and Ginny. The latter two sat mere inches apart on a threadbare love seat with a dark blue blanket over the back that the family matriarch had knitted some winters past. Ron on the other hand was scowling into the fireplace across the room as Percy and his girlfriend Audrey crossed the room to head towards the kitchen.

"Hermione! There you are, I was wondering if you were still coming." Ginny jumped up once she realized her friend's arrival before rushing over to give the other girl a hug. "Bill wanted to talk to you, but he's in the kitchen with mum right now. I'm sure he'll catch you when there's a free minute."

"Sorry, I got caught up after Colin's funeral by Andromeda. Is there anything left to do that I can help with?" Hermione returned the younger witch's hug before giving a nod of a greeting to the boys still seated in the living room.

"Nah, everyone is dressed and ready to go. Pretty sure mum cooked enough food for an army for who ever comes over after, we all told her not to bother but you know how she gets." Ron was the one who answered rather than his sister. The ginger boy not even bothering to look away from the flames in the hearth while he spoke.

Hermione just nodded in response before leaning against the doorway she stood in. Just taking a moment to observe her closest friends before she joined them in the living room. The first person her eyes were drawn to was Harry. Not that it was much of a surprise, Harry had always been her closest friend. She considered him a brother more than anything if she was being honest with herself, even if Ron and Harry were closer to each other than her. She understood, after all they were boys and each other's first friend at Hogwarts. However, it still stung at times to know that while the world now considered them the Golden Trio the actuality was more along the lines of the Recklessly Courageous Duo and their brainy friend.

Harry was wearing the same funeral outfit he had to the last few funerals he had attended, a simple set of black muggle slacks and a navy button up shirt with a black tie. His black robes were also laying on the armrest of the couch he sat on to bring with him. Not that anyone would begrudge him for wearing the same outfit repeatedly, the string of funerals to attend seemed never ending, with multiple funerals going on each day and often multiple services going on at the same time. If everyone was to wear a new outfit to each, Madam Malkin's would have run out of stock. Not that such a thing would be too hard to pull off considering Mrs. Malkin had been one of the casualties of a Diagon Alley raid in the middle of the war so the only stock remaining consisted of clothing she had made before her death.

Next to Harry, Ginny had retaken her seat. This time she sat sideways on the couch with her legs over Harry's lap and her head on his shoulder. Unlike Harry, she wore an outfit that Hermione hadn't seen before. The slightly younger witch wore a dark green dress, the straps at the top covered her shoulders but left her arms bare and had a modest curved neckline. Around her neck was a gold locket which the twins had given her for her birthday last year, what was inside it nobody knew other than Ginny and possibly George since the girl refused to allow anyone to see it open. A black peacoat, which looked suspiciously like Fleur's, laid across the back of the couch behind her presumably waiting to be brought along to the cemetery.

Finally, she let her eyes roam over Ron. He was one of her best friends, at one point she even fancied herself in love with him. Not that she could pinpoint when those feelings had died, just that the butterflies she used to feel in her stomach were gone. The kiss they had shared during the battle had been everything she had imagined once upon a time but thinking of repeating the experience made her stomach turn a bit. Even now looking at him, she could admit that he looked rather dashing in his black dress robes. Just a peak of the grey slacks he wore underneath were showing near his ankle while the rest of his outfit was hidden by the robes. There was a time seeing him so put together would have made her blush at the thoughts running through her mind. Now she just wondered what had changed.

It seemed everything was changing these days.

Rather than trying to start a conversation when the three were obviously absorbed in their own thoughts, Hermione decided to head towards the kitchen herself and see if the Weasley matriarch could use a hand with anything. The scene in the typically lively room hadn't changed much after her brief glance through the window upon her arrival. The only difference now was that Percy was leaning against the countertop while Audrey sat next to Mrs. Weasley, holding her hand and muttering comforting words.

"'ello Hermione." Bill greeted her with a tired smile. "Just who I was hoping to see today, do you have a moment?"

"I was going to see if I could help your mum with anything, but if she doesn't need me then of course." Despite speaking to Bill, she kept her eyes on his mother in a silent question of what she preferred.

"No, no darling. Go ahead and talk to Bill, there's not much to do until we head out." Mrs. Weasley shooed them both out of the kitchen with a wave of her hand and a watery smile.

"Be on the steps if you need us" the eldest of the Weasley siblings informed the kitchen as a whole before leading the way back out to the living room and out the door Hermione had entered just a few moments ago. After closing it carefully behind her, Bill took a seat on the front steps to the Burrow and gestured for her to join him.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" she asked him warily. Hermione had been expecting the wolf talk for a few days but hadn't actually ran into Bill since the night of the Battle.

Bill scratched at the back of his head for a moment before sighing.

"How much do you know about werewolves Hermione? And the folk like us that are just a touch wolf-y?"

So, the time for answers had finally come. Taking a moment to organize her thoughts and recall everything _He_ had once taught her, Hermione realized that while she knew a good deal about werewolves, she knew next to nothing about actually _being_ a werewolf. Or being 'wolf-y' as Bill liked to call it.

"Well, symptoms grow stronger near the full moon. Since Fenrir wasn't transformed when he bit me, I'm going to crave meat a bit extra rare and might have some improved senses. Unless you also want to check my knowledge on how to defeat a werewolf or what we learned in Defense class, I suppose that's it." She frowned at the apparent gap in her information as she summed up what she thought Bill wanted to know.

"You're not exactly wrong." Bill paused, seeming to gather his own thoughts before continuing. "I don't know if it'll be different for you, as a girl, but ah… physical urges… get far stronger the closer to the moon. And it's not just meat you'll crave raw. Most food that's been processed will make you sick and just won't taste right. Certain seasonings that you may have liked before might be too strong now. Aconite won't hurt you since you aren't a full wolf, but if you use your bare hands working with it too long it'll start to cause an allergic reaction. Your senses will indeed improve but you'll notice a spike around the days leading up to the moon."

This wasn't too different than what _He_ had mentioned when Bill was first attacked, a bit more detailed but seemed manageable. Before Hermione could open her mouth to respond though, he continued talking.

"The worst is the night of the moon. We don't turn of course, but you'll feel like death. It's like the worst flu you've ever had, but about fifty times worse and minus the puking. Usually. Your bones will ache, your skin will itch, your blood will feel like it's boiling in your veins. But once the moon's been out a bit, seems to be about an hour, it'll fade. I think it's the lycanthropy wanting to turn, but we don't have enough of the wolf magic to actually turn. Course, that's just speculation. Not like there's much study done on this."

As he carried on, Hermione could actually feel the blood draining from her face. _Rem-_ … _He_ had never mentioned any of that.

"… what about after the moon?"

"Nothin' as bad as Remus had it or anythin. It'll feel like you're recovering from a bad illness. You'll be achy and sore but it improves rapidly." A half grin graced his lips for a moment, almost as if he were trying to tell her it was a silver lining to the whole situation.

Not as bad as it _could_ be. Not as bad as _He_ had it?

Another dagger pierced her heart at _his_ name, she had managed to make it days without anyone saying it aloud. But of course she needed to get used to it, Hermione tried to remind herself. The Lupin funeral would be the next day and _his_ … Remus's name would be on everyone's lips. It was still hard for her to understand how this death hurt so. Everyone who had died brought her grief, they were children in a war they had no business fighting for the most part. Johanna had been twelve when she died for Merlin's sake! But _hi_ \- Remus's death was excruciating.

"Hermione?" Bill interrupted her thoughts before she could get too deep into her spiral of heartache. "Are you alright?"

"Yes… Yes sorry! I was just ruminating over it all you know? I haven't noticed many symptoms so far and the moon is only two nights away." She gradually forced herself to the present so that she could focus on the conversation.

"it's a lot to take in. I'm available anytime if you want to owl me. I'm no expert since I was scratched a while before the moon, but maybe you're not feeling anything yet because you were just infected a few days ago yeah?"

His theory made sense, some full werewolves didn't turn their first moon if they were bitten too close to it so maybe the same applied for those who weren't fully infected. Hermione slowly nodded in agreement as her mind went through the possibilities.

"Thanks Bill, I appreciate it. Do you-"

Before she could finish her question, Molly opened the door behind them to announce it was time to head towards the cemetery for Fred's funeral.

Whoever said that loss gets easier with time was a liar.


	3. Ruminate

Quick authors note!

Thank you all for the encouragement and the favs/follows! It means so much to me and I just wanted to give a quick shout out to everyone who reviewed! Also, thanks for the patience with my slow updates. I'm finishing my last semester of college while working two jobs, so until something changes I give no promises on any kind of schedule for updates. However, I do have the next 3 chapters almost finished so once I get them edited the next few updates should be much faster!

Also, if anyone is a member of the Shrieking Shack Society on Facebook, I post chapter previews on there a bit before an update. (and generally recommend the group to anyone in the fandom who likes the marauders/marauder era fics)

Without further distraction, back to the story!

* * *

Aconite had never been so difficult to find.

Unlike most students, Hermione had managed to spend plenty of time in the so called Forbidden Forest during her Hogwarts career and knew exactly where a glade in the forest was located that typically had plenty of wolfsbane growing. It was exactly 2 kilometers into the forest, then a right turn before the acromantula territory began, another kilometer or so, then the woods were supposed to begin thinning out and the glade should have been right in front of her. It was a journey she had made more times than she could count!

So, why was she still wandering through the woods hours later than the trip should have taken?

"Bloody apparition wards. Bloody forest. Bloody funerals. Bloody BUGGERING WEEK!" she half screamed as her aggravation got the best of her, kicking the base of a tree that was easily twice as thick as she was tall while she continued walking through the forest.

First, her initial plan to get some aconite for Teddy's potion had barely worked. The storerooms down in the dungeons had been almost completely ruined by rubble and water, though in the very back of the room on a shelf she had to nearly swim to reach had been a few dried sprigs of the purple towering plant in good enough condition to prepare the potion Teddy needed.

The visit to Andromeda's house the day before her venture through the forest had left her unsettled. Her newly improved sense of smell had nearly overwhelmed her when she walked into the door. The smell of the freshly washed and bleached fabrics had been so sharp she had immediately gotten a migraine, which hadn't improved her already dismal mood. Hermione had done her best to ignore the pain long enough to deliver the plant and leave, but Andromeda had asked her to watch Teddy while she added the aconite to the potion. Finishing the brew would only take 'an hour or two' Andromeda had claimed.

"An hour to two my arse!" Hermione thought to herself with a huff as she mentally reviewed her less than stellar week and not so gracefully untangled her ankle from some vine-like plant she was too irritated to bother identifying.

Visiting with Teddy and watching him had always been a pleasure. But something about his scent. Not the new baby smell, but his own unique scent that was something entirely Remus and something rather Tonks plus a hint of cedar that she was rapidly associating with the small boy, had reawakened something deep inside her that felt broken and empty. To say it had hurt was an understatement. Still though, she loved the boy and had considered his parents to be close friends, so it was all horribly confusing. She had made a mental note to ask Bill about scents and how they could affect people like them but hadn't gotten around to it just yet considering her never ending to do list and all the issues the Weasley family was dealing with.

So, she had stayed at the Tonks home nearly until the sun had left the sky that evening, pointedly ignoring the room the Lupins had lived in. If smelling the vague hints of _Him_ on Teddy had been hard, entering that room seemed impossible. Before she had been exposed to lycanthropy, Hermione had always thought Remus smelled amazing. Sandalwood and just a hint of forest and some undertones she couldn't identify.

Now, with her ever improving senses, even the fading scent from the closed room was far easier to identify than it had been even in person. There was the sandalwood she had always associated with him, but also the smell of a forest after a heavy rain. A dash of patchouli and something that was nearly feral. It wasn't a scent that a normal human's nose was even capable of noticing, let alone appreciating. She supposed it was the lycanthropy lending such a primal tone to his scent, but as she hadn't been around any wolves or Bill since her senses had abruptly changed she wasn't sure.

Eventually Teddy had fallen asleep and after settling him in a crib, Hermione had entered the basement potions lab. Andromeda had been restarting the potion from scratch after accidentally ruining the last batch, from what Hermione could understand of the muttered excuse a few stray tears had fallen into the cauldron. A flash of sympathy had struck her and lead to Hermione staying hours longer to assist in the brewing. It had been an interesting potion, not that she really thought she would need a brew for the human child of a werewolf. Though perhaps, with Andromeda's permission and after some time had passed, they could work on getting the potion published to help other children like Teddy.

The reaction to Teddy's scent had been confusing. The scent of _Him_ all over the house had been painful. The emotions rolling off of Andromeda had been heartbreaking. But what had unsettled her the most, was the jumper she was currently wearing as she waltzed through the woods in search of fresh wolfsbane.

Night had fallen and the waxing moon had been high in the sky by the time the potion had finished, been given to Teddy, and a cup of tea had been drank by the witches. Despite the warm season, the night had been cool so Andromeda had forced a jumper into Hermione's arms before shooing the younger girl out of the house. It had belonged to Remus but before she had managed to get over the shock to her system and protest the gift, Andromeda had shut the door on her stating that Hermione had better get straight back to Hogwarts.

Forcing her mind back to the present, Hermione absently fingered a hole in the sleeve of the well worn tan fabric. The jumper was huge on her, while the hole had probably been somewhere along _His_ forearm it was just about where her fingertips fell when the sleeves weren't pushed up. The smell that had once inspired such pain earlier now gave her some small degree of comfort as she trod along through the forest.

Any other time, she would have found the forest around her beautiful. There was just enough light from the setting sun that she could see the endless trees surrounding her in all directions. Green in every shade imaginable, from the moss to the leaves and the random plants all over the forest ground. Tans and browns from the tree trunks, sticks, and mushrooms occasionally sprouting up. Greys, blacks, and whites of rocks and boulders that randomly disrupted the sea of vegetation around her. Strangely, Hermione hadn't seen a single animal magical or otherwise.

Still though, Hermione continued to walk.

Unfortunately, just walking had never been enough to keep her mind occupied. So, she let her mind continue to ponder the events of the last week. Yesterday had been her visit with Teddy and Andromeda, but that morning had been the Lupin funeral.

Watching the lanky man and his young wife being laid to rest had been one of the hardest moments of her life. Despite what she was sure had been a wonderful service, Hermione couldn't recall any of it. Who she had stood by, who had spoken, who had cried… None of it registered through the mind numbing grief. The only thing that stuck in her mind was the image of his limp and lifeless face then the handful of dirt she had thrown onto the casket along with the others who were considered close to the family to bury the man.

Hermione had seen corpses before, both in the war and at muggle funerals. The biggest difference she could tell, was how muggles would apply make up and dress up the corpse before viewing and burial. The magical world didn't bother. The body had been cleaned up of course. The faint trail of blood that had been leading from the corner of his mouth down his jaw the day of the battle was gone. The tattered clothes replaced with a set of robes and his hair was freshly cleaned.

But the bruise on the left side of his throat was still visible. The small cut above his eyebrow was no longer bleeding but was present. The scars that marked his face weren't hidden with a glamour charm or covered up, somehow that made it a tiny bit better.

In life Remus was full of a calm steadiness that radiated from him. It had blanketed everything and everyone he touched with a sense of comfort. He had been full of life, not in an obvious or rambunctious way like Sirius or the Weasley twins but still vibrant. His green eyes had sparkled with joy and mischievous energy when he was happy. Easily his most expressive feature, Hermione recalled seeing them haunted, joyful, sad, angry, nervous… So many things he would never be again.

Seeing those green eyes dead and dull had been far too much to handle.

The memories of that horrible morning forced her endless marching to a halt. She was trembling, everything hurt. The forest around her was growing darker and the trees felt almost alive they were so old. Fairy nests had begun to pop up here and there, though no fae could be seen. However, none of this registered to Hermione as she stared blankly ahead trying to mentally force herself away from thoughts of _Him_ , of _his_ wife, of _his_ child, of _his_ death.

As wrong as it seemed to think such a thing, Fred's funeral had been infinitely easier to handle. It hurt, it was tragic, it broke her heart. But witnessing her favorite Weasley being laid to rest hadn't caused her to stop functioning. She had wept, she had hugged and comforted everyone she could. If asked, she could have answered anything about the service. It still brought tears to her eyes just to recall the ceremony. Yet, somehow it hadn't made her feel quite as broken or hollow as… _others_ she had attended recently.

However, like everything else that occurred during the week following what was coming to be known as The Battle of Hogwarts, there was more to deal with than anyone had expected. During the burial, just as the last of the earth had covered the casket holding his twin, George had collapsed. He hadn't been himself the entire day, any time Fred or the funeral had been mentioned George had acted as if he hadn't heard it at all. His moods had swung dangerously from manic to seriously depressed to angry and confused.

Of course, such behavior had been somewhat expected. After all, the death of a loved one is always traumatizing. When that loved one is not only a sibling but a twin? One half of a whole unit? Hermione couldn't even begin to imagine how devastating it must have been for George.

Once the slightly younger twin had collapsed, the Weasleys were quick to rush him to St Mungo's. The tragedy of the day hadn't ended there however. After hours in the waiting room, a Healer had finally come to speak with the family. George's magical core was irreparably damaged. He would remain in a sleep like the muggle world called a coma, possibly for life.

Identical twins in the magical world were exceedingly rare, especially twins who shared a magic core. Unfortunately for George there just weren't enough cases of this happening for the Healers to know how to treat it, if there even was a treatment to be found. Healer Brown, idly Hermione had wondered if the wizard had been any relation to Lavender, had promised to do the best they could and to contact a specialist from America but hadn't seemed very hopeful.

An itching sensation in her right arm helped pull Hermione from her rather depressing thoughts.

"Oh great. I've been wandering about for hours and now I get to deal with bloody bug bites." She couldn't resist speaking her complaint aloud, for years every single bloody spring and winter Hermione had been one of those people that mosquitoes just loved to bite.

Scratching at her arm without really realizing she was doing so, she stopped walking for a moment to try and determine if she could recognize any of her surroundings. It was truly getting late, hours ago the sun had been starting to set and her legs were absolutely killing her. Months on the run had gotten Hermione in the best shape of her life, when it came to physical activity that is. Hours upon hours of walking for days on end had a habit of pushing at one's endurance. However, tonight her joints and muscles were aching as if she had just run a marathon then decided to swim the Thames afterwards.

Still though, something told her to keep walking. So, she did. Mindlessly continuing on as some compulsion deep inside her urged her onward until time lost its meaning.

A rare break in the foliage overhead revealed the moon nearly at its peak some unknowable time later. Its full shape illuminating gaps in the trees and lending a mystical glow to the forest undergrowth. It would have been a wondrous sight if Hermione had been in any state to appreciate it.

Her skin itched so violently it burned. Millions of fire ants had to be crawling about under her flesh and biting her to create such a sensation. Her very bones ached, causing her to move much like her muggle Nona had in her elderly years. It was worse than when she had awoken from her petrification via basilisk. Every muscle in her body had been paralyzed and tensed for nearly two months while the mandrake potion had been brewed, awakening had felt like she had been hit by one of the double-decked buses that ran all over London. This however, whatever this was, caused such torment that even her extensive vocabulary faltered when trying to accurately describe what she felt. Her eyes felt gritty, as if she had over done it at another all night session in the library. Her teeth felt simultaneously extremely brittle and as if they were under enormous pressure.

As if the physical sensations weren't enough, her emotions had decided to run away from her as well. Rage so intense it felt alien to her flooded her body, nearly dragging a literal growl from deep in her throat. Sorrow so profound Hermione thought she may actually be in danger of drowning in it somehow. Restlessness that threw her into random bursts of jogging despite her bodily pain. Elation that seemed almost manic in nature. All without any discernible trigger and changing so rapidly she imagined it may give her whiplash.

If she had been able, Hermione would have been concerned. This absolutely was not what Bill had told her to expect!

If she had been able, Hermione would have questioned why she kept walking onward even though she was only traveling deeper into the Forbidden Forest.

If she had been able, Hermione would have realized something wasn't right.

Another break in the leafy canopy above her was getting closer as she ambled on. Sweat was dripping from every pore as the moonlight shining through the woods grew closer. The beam of light nearly appeared to make a spotlight in her path. Ferns that she had previously been unable to see clearly and fairy nests were everywhere in the underbrush. Narrowly avoiding crushing a nest that may or may not have been empty under her foot, Hermione stepped into the illuminated circle.

As she looked up at the full moon, she experienced a heartbeat of relief. For just a fraction of a moment, the rapidly changing emotions that plagued her typically logical mind ceased. For just a second the pain, the burning, the itching, the everything just… stopped.

Then the moment passed, and it all returned with a vengeance. The previous problems suddenly felt like a refreshing dip in the Prefect's Bath in comparison. Where fire ants had once crawled under her skin, now pure fiendfyre replaced the insects, her skin, her blood. The ache in her bones that had once felt as if she were an arthritic woman at the end of her days now seemed as if every muscle, bone, tendon, and her very cells were under a thousand Crucios by Bellatrix's wand.

Hermione fell to her knees in the moonlight, doubling over in agony as a scream burst forth from her lips. Her arms wrapped around herself though her skin was so sensitive it felt like five daggers had raked over her sides rather than her own fingertips. She even thought she felt dampness as if blood had been drawn. A loud snapping echoed through the woods around her, sounding like the breaking of bones.

Bill was wrong

The thought crossed her mind in her last moment of clarity before she was lost to the pain wracking her body and the inhuman sounds leaving her lips.

* * *

The howl of a wolf is rarely a comforting sound.

The howl of a wolf at night, in the middle of a forest is generally enough to send a little chill of curious fear down the spine.

The howl of a wolf at night, in the middle of a forest, during a full moon, and within a magical property is decidedly terrifying.

Unless… you are the wolf.


	4. Fortuity

Quick author note everyone!

First of all, oh my god. 70 favorites and 175 followers?! I'm amazed! Thank you all so so much for all of the support and I'm so happy the story has been enjoyed so far! Major shout out to everyone who has left a review, I don't usually respond to them all because it makes me feel like I need to reply to everyone (and I just am not capable of doing so because hoooooo-boy I get anxious talking to folks) but from the bottom of my little heart I appreciate it and I absolutely fan-squeal over each one.

Also, I wanted to apologize for the late update even after posting that chapter preview. This week I am officially done with my college classes and now only have to take my capstone to graduate so it has been absolutely insane lately. However, as a reward for all the love (and a break for myself) here's an update!

Let me know how you like this chapter, I struggled a lot with the point of view and honestly rewrote this at least 5 times.

* * *

Deep in the Forbidden Forest, far from anyone who could have heard her screams or helped her, Hermione's cries of agony had finally stopped. In fact, everything seemed to have stopped. The Fae which had been hiding from the human's sight as she had crashed through their wood were cowering in the grooves of bark, under the leaves of vines, and in the burrows of whatever creatures were unlucky enough to call the area their home. The moon, so full and bright it nearly looked orange, had stopped its climb into the sky. The wind itself didn't even muster a wisp to disturb the stillness.

Where a bushy-haired and aggravated witch had once knelt, something entirely different crouched in the ferns and dirt of the forest floor. Its very scent told everything near it to hide, to flee, to avoid it at all costs. The creature had chestnut colored fur covering its entire body, with some slightly lighter areas on the tops of its shoulders and neck as well as its underside. The fur was longer than one would expect for an animal in this temperate climate. Its paws were massive, tipped with dangerous looking claws and attached to long limbs that were trembling slightly. Its muzzle came straight out from its skill and just barely failed to hide the wicked looking fangs peeking out from its upper lip. The only noise escaping the creature was a slight whine with each exhale as it slowly seemed to wake.

A four legged creature in the middle of the woods, even a predator like the claws and fangs proclaimed this one to be, wasn't unusual. Even a wolf, though rare to this region, wouldn't be cause for this level of alarm. No, the reason the forest itself seemed to be frozen in terror was explained by the canine-like creature's tail. Rather than long and fluffed like most of this creature's lupine cousins, the tail which was currently trapped under one of the creature's back legs was long and covered in very short chocolate fur with a strange tuft of fur at the very end.

The creature wasn't a natural creature at all but rather a magical beast.

It was a werewolf.

As the wolf slowly seemed to come to its senses, strangely human looking amber eyes stared at the trees surrounding it. Rather than alert and attentive as those same eyes often looked when peering out of a very different face, they were glazed and unfocused. Trying to stand on its own paws only proved that its limbs were still trembling too hard to manage quite yet. The attempt sent the pained animal sprawling back to the earth with a yelp as the short fall was enough to aggravate the wounds raking both sides of the animal's ribs.

Thoughts were flying through its head, though nothing like the ones Hermione would have been used to processing. This creature didn't think in the way a human did, instinct and basic feelings flooded it instead. Each emotion and urge far more powerful than anything a human could experience.

The first thing the wolf realized once some of the confusion had cleared and it managed to haul itself into a sitting position rather than cowering in the dirt, was that it was new. There was no prior knowledge to help it understand the world around it, each scent was exciting and terrifying. What was safe? What wasn't?

Of course, to the wolf this was expressed in waves of excitement, then nervousness, then curiosity, then terror rather than the logical path Hermione's mind would have taken.

The wolf would jolt towards something as if to investigate it in the way all canines do, by scenting it, then a whine would escape it as it realized nothing was promised to be safe and _Merlin_ it already hurt so much. It didn't know the scent of the musky groundhog hole near its left paw was harmless to something as large as itself, only that the scent was new. It didn't realize that the sound of water running downhill some ways away was too far to harm it, only that it didn't recognize the sound. The wolf knew it was in pain, it knew it felt uncoordinated and weak, it knew it was somewhere unfamiliar. That was when the wolf realized something even worse than the strange smells and the pain and the sounds.

It was alone.

So alone.

Somehow, instinctively the wolf knew it was missing what all new creatures were supposed to have. There was no comforting smell of mother's milk or any mother at all. There was no scent that instinctively meant safety. There was no friendly presence. There were no packmates.

That was when the wolf just couldn't handle this strange new world anymore that smelled of strange things and fear and pain.

A loud, lonely and hair curling howl escaped the wolf as it cried to the world around it. As it… no she. The wolf knew it was female. As she howled her song of pain and sorrow and confusion, gradually she felt something new starting.

While the she-wolf couldn't be aware of it, the same strange compulsion that had been propelling a very different version of herself through the woods was ensnaring her in this new body. So subtle was the urge to keep walking that she didn't even realize that all four paws were finally able to stay on the ground, let alone that she had begun a slow ambling walk through the forest. Though perhaps she just wasn't completely aware just yet, after all she was a tad preoccupied.

While the wolf didn't question things in the same way a human would have, she still experienced a fierce sense of curiosity that couldn't be ignored. A human may have explored their surroundings and logically tried to find an answer. The wolf on the other hand, or paw as the case may be, sought to learn more about her surroundings by thoroughly investigating _everything_. The burrow under the roots of a tree she was walking by with its strange scent and stranger occupants had their slumber abruptly interrupted as a massive muzzle was thrust down the opening. A niffler hollow within an oak tree she passed, a fairy nest next to the river she crossed, the baby deer hiding behind a bush as its mother roamed, and even a particularly smelly patch of some sort of plant all fell victim to the creature's nose as she randomly veered away from her path to scrutinize each new thing she experienced.

Gradually, the staggering that barely passed for an amble lost its graceless movements and became a smooth stride. That smooth stride became a trot and eventually she found herself running through the woods, the direction didn't really matter. It felt as if her instincts were telling her to carry on the way she was heading so she didn't question it. Besides, who could be bothered with such things when she felt as if she could fly?

There was nothing like it, that fierce elation of an all out run through the woods. Swerving trees came second nature to such a creature, jumping the logs and debris that she could and easily maneuvering around those she couldn't, she was made for this environment. She may be alone, but the forest was home! Something deep in her heart told her so and joy flooded her veins with each stride. The forest was made for beasts and creatures of the wilds, a human may appreciate it but there was no comparison to how one made for such an environment could experience it.

The trees grew ever larger, even her new and massive body was dwarfed by these ancient beings. Lichens and ivy blanketed some of them while others were bare of everything other than their own bark. Some were typical trees that one could find anywhere, only on a much larger scale than could be seen in the muggle world, others were so obviously magical that even the wolf took note of them.

Eventually, with sides heaving and tongue lolling from the side of her mouth, the wolf came to a stop. Deep in the Forbidden Forest, far beyond what Hermione had ever explored and possibly beyond what any human had explored, magic hummed through the air so potently even a muggle could have sensed it. The trees in this patch of forest were easily four or five times as large around as the wolf was long, the ferns that grew hadn't been seen by the human eye in centuries, the boulders and other minerals that could be found seemed as if they had been there since the dawn of time.

As if the timeless feeling of the area and thick sense of magic in the air wasn't enough, a thick fog had started a few kilometers before the wolf reached this portion of the woods and was so dense in this area a human wouldn't have been able to see the ground beneath their feet. Luckily the wolf had stronger senses than some mortal, she would barely make out the form of towering pine-like trees that formed a perfect circle ahead of her but smelled of the night rather than the sharp winter scent similar looking trees gave off. In the center of the strange tree circle she could tell there was a clearing, but the fog was too dense for the she-wolf to be able to see what lay ahead.

A human that came across such a scene would have been uncomfortable to say the least. It certainly looked mystical, but the hair on the back of their neck would stand up and goosebumps would erupt. Mortals never have dealt with the otherworldly very well.

The chestnut wolf seemed perfectly at ease in comparison, certainly curious and perhaps a tad weary, but not afraid in the least. Something about whatever was ahead of her felt soothing and that strange compulsion that had kept her moving for hours upon hours had finally ceased. What else was there to do besides continue on into the clearing?

So, on she walked. The trees abruptly stopped, there was no gradual thinning of the trees before the open space of the clearing. Once her front paws cleared the tree line, the fog also abruptly cleared. Within the circle was a stone structure that smelled of old magic and old human and old creatures and just plain _old._ Some pattern was in the stones, almost as if they had been cut into them and some kind of fabric like material draped over parts of the structure. The wolf wasn't concerned with these things, though another version of her would have been dying to analyze it all. No, the wolf was far more preoccupied with the figure that sat in front of her.

Her eyes told her that this figure was a human. Two oddly shaped legs were stretched out in front of the being as it reclined on the top of the stone structure, two arms that were useless for walking with those strange paws at the end, and the being was hairless besides the overly long fur at the top of its head. Despite never having seen one before, our she-wolf was certain this was what a human looked like.

Yet, this figure didn't smell like a human or prey at all. This odd creature smelt like the night and magic and wolf and other scents she couldn't identify yet. As the figure stood and began walking towards the wolf it was clear that it moved with a grace nature didn't grant humans either. The wolf wasn't very concerned with these discrepancies though, her instincts weren't telling her to flee this creature she had found. In fact, if anything her instincts were telling her this was one of her own kind! So, tail wagging lowly in submissive greeting to this strange other being she approached slowly.

One of those strange human paws came to rest upon her head once the short distance between the two had been covered. Sounds were coming from the creature that she didn't understand exactly, but impressions of feelings accompanied the sounds which were simple enough. The being was pleased. Since something within the wolf told her this being was powerful, far more powerful than she was herself, this also pleased the wolf.

The strange paw began running down her fur, only to be lifted and ran back down her head and shoulders in a repetitive motion. It felt nice enough and the she-wolf was content not being alone, so she sat near the being allowing the contact.

Sounds continued to escape the strange creature, feelings of anger and frustration flowed over her as it continued. Fear, irritation, curiosity, determination, and so many more cycled through as the being carried on. The repetitive motion of the being's paw across the top of her shoulders tensed and changed with the flow of noises. Eventually the being seemed to run out of sounds to make and along with the wolf sat in contemplative silence. The wolf couldn't be sure, but the being seemed conflicted.

After what seemed to be nothing more than a few heartbeats the being made noise once more, this time a decision seemed to have been made as a strong feeling of determination and peace radiated from it. If the wolf had anyway of knowing this would be the last of the pleasant sensations it would be experiencing that evening, perhaps she would have appreciated it more.

As it was, the wolf had no way of knowing what was about to happen to her or that fate wasn't done with either version of her just yet.

As the strange being that looked as a human yet smelled of magic and wolf began making those foreign noises again, the magic that already hummed through the air seemed to awaken. The hairless paw that had been running through the she-wolf's fur so soothingly began to move through the air in some pattern the wolf couldn't recognize, each repetitive motion seeming to stir the magic-heavy air into more of a frenzy until it seemed as if a maelstrom was forming in the air above the clearing.

Fur bristling and ears pinned flat to her head, all the wolf could do was crouch down low to the ground as a whine of discomfort left her. The other being wanted her to stay where she was, somehow she knew this beyond a doubt, but the wild energy racing through the air and tearing at the foliage around the clearing screamed of the unknown. All she wanted to do was flee this strange stone place she had stumbled upon!

As the air felt ever thicker and swirled about nearly faster than one could comprehend, our she-wolf realized another two things. Each terrifying, but together it was enough to overpower her instinctive need to obey an Alpha like this strange being so clearly was. One, the faster the air moved and the heavier the magic the less she could breathe. Two, she couldn't move. Each time she tried to pick up her paws or wriggle away it seemed as if she was glued in place, her flesh unable to leave the stones she sat upon. Already she was dizzy and panting heavily for life bringing oxygen and she couldn't _move_.

Panic, sheer blinding panic took over as the instinctive will to live kicked in and the wolf began thrashing against whatever force held her immobile.

While a human in the same situation may have been able to understand that the more they struggled the more precious oxygen they used, the wolf didn't understand this. The only thought running through her lupine mind was the violent need to fight against whatever held her so she could escape.

The strange otherworldly being (what else could it be aside from otherworldly to have this kind of power?) continued on as if it didn't notice the snarling fearful creature trapped at its feet and gradually losing consciousness as she failed to get enough air. The noises escaping its lips flowed faster as if keeping pace with the screaming wind swirling around them both but still maintaining a rhythm to the chanting.

The frantic energy, impossible speeds, and whirlwind of magic finally came to a climax. The veritable vortex the whipping winds and magic had formed came to an apex and the magic holding the she-wolf in place finally released her into the less than gentle tunnel that had been formed by the being's magic. Then, with a loud popping sound the wolf was gone. As was the magic, the being, and the very stones that made up the structure in the middle of the clearing.

Not that the wolf could be aware of this, as she had fallen to unconsciousness before the most interesting parts of the entire strange experience had occurred. But as the she-wolf slumbered on in a very different place than she had just been, a life changing moment was about to occur for four young men.

* * *

The night started off brilliantly, in James's opinion that is. Peter's birthday had lined up with the full moon that month, and moon nights were always bitter sweet for the Marauders, but they had all managed to meet up in Hogsmeade to celebrate their youngest friend finally turning 17. Butterbeer had flowed freely and if Sirius had managed to smuggle a bottle of firewhisky from the back storage room while Rosmerta was distracted there was certainly no proof of such activities, the Marauders had a reputation to uphold after all.

So, when exactly had it all gotten so bloody twisted and just plain weird?

The boys had joked and tussled with each other as they stumbled out of the pub before the moon could climb into the sky. They carried on towards the shrieking shack they were so familiar with and everything had gone exactly as it should have. Well, mostly. Peter had struggled to transform into his animagus form in time after getting so sloshed, but Sirius had managed to keep Moony distracted while James helped Peter focus enough to change in another empty area of the shack.

It was usually Peter's job to then scurry down the long tunnel that ended just under the whomping willow tree and make sure the coast was clear before the boys all carefully herded their friend to the Forbidden Forest to run. Years ago they had realized that the wounds Moony inflicted on himself (and Remus) were never as bad when the animal wasn't trapped in the building. And since Dumbledore himself knew that Remus used the shack to change in, they figured that was also why he was so strict about people being out after curfew so roaming the forest became their monthly habit.

This month however, Peter was far too gone to manage. Even in their animal forms the intoxication from their earlier festivities was still hitting them hard. Aside from Moony that was, later on they would figure his metabolism from the lycanthropy had something to do with it but for now such thoughts were the last thing on anyone's mind.

Perhaps it was the fact that every month the coast was clear. Perhaps it was fate playing its strange hand once more or perhaps it was just all the alcohol dulling their minds, but that August moon the boys headed straight for the forest without checking first.

When they finally reached the edge of the forest, luckily for them nobody had been roaming the castle grounds, things began getting strange. Later on James would even look back and think that this exact moment was the catalyst for damn near every strange twist his life took, but hind sight is always 20/20 and in the moment all that the dark haired boy could think was a muddled "what?"

As soon as the werewolf passed the tree line, rather than romping about with his adopted packmates and generally acting more like a young puppy than a couple hundred pound magical beast Moony froze in place. Not even Sirius nosing him, rather roughly it might be added, was enough to make him move.

With a mental shrug the other boys were content enough to hang about and entertain themselves while their wolfy friend did… whatever it was he was doing.

The moon had continued its climb and still Moony remained where he was. After what felt like hours, Sirius and Moony both suddenly snapped their heads towards the West. The other two couldn't hear it since their forms didn't have as sensitive hearing as the canine duo but off in the distance a loud popping sound had echoed through the forest followed by a brief but powerful sounding rush of wind. Shortly after, all four boys were staring in the same direction as magic, old and powerful, burned their noses and made their fur stand on end.

Looking back, Sirius remembered thinking to himself 'but you can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds' the popping sound had reminded him of apparition, but far far louder than it should have been.

Before any of them could even begin thinking of a response, Moony had taken off in the direction of the strange sounds. Rapidly leaving his packmates in the dust he raced through the woods as an odd mixture of instinct a faint scent that he could barely scent on the wind drove him forwards. The closer he got the better he could make out the scent teasing him. Parchment and ink with just a hint of woodsmoke filled his nose as he got closer. The human within him, unconscious in the back of his mind while the wolf ran free, faintly hummed happily as the scent reminded him of a comforting chair in front of the library fireplace. The wolf on the other hand only got more excited as the scent of cypress trees and cinnamon along with something utterly feral and _lupine_ threaded into the scent.

Finally, after what seemed like hours to Moony but in all actuality was no more than 20 minutes, he found the source of the enticing scent. Under some kind of evergreen tree lay an unconscious female. Her chestnut fur rippled slightly in the light breeze and a single fang peered out from her muzzle as she slumbered on. Moony's tail wagged happily as he trotted closer to the other wolf, his packmates were pack beyond a doubt. But this, she… she was like him. Another wolf!

By the time he had reached her, the massive black dog that usually accompanied him burst into the scene. Shortly behind him a stag with a small rat clinging to its antlers joined them, the trio clearly having been trying to catch up to their wayward friend.

Before any of them had time to process the extra wolf that none of them had been expecting, the moon sunk down below the horizon and a loud howling cry of pain burst forth from Moony. He crouched down low in the dirt as the change took over him, fur and skin sloughing off in chunks as bare human skin covered his body. The terrible sound of bones breaking and the general horror of one's body transforming from beast to human quickly took over the scene.

To the animagus's surprise, the other wolf began to change as well! It certainly answered their previous question if she was a werewolf or a normal creature.

As every time they witnessed the pain their friend went through, the change seemed simultaneously mere moments and hours long until eventually a wizard and girl laid where two massive wolves had been. Remus was fast asleep, as he usually was immediately following his change. On the other hand though, the uncomfortably naked and skinny girl was barely awake.

Her head flopped over to face Remus and the odd trio of animals still hovering around in weary surprise. James could see that her eyes were an odd amber/hazel color, Sirius could see that her ribs and spine stuck out in a clear sign of malnourishment, and Peter saw that her arm had some kind of writing carved into it but the angle she laid at prevented him from making out more than the last two letters. All of them however heard the single word that escaped her lips before her eyes slid closed once more and she lost consciousness once more.

"Remus"


End file.
